Aaron, Hotch and Hotchner
by maleshka
Summary: Rossi tries to peel back some of the Unit Chief's layers, trying to distinguish Aaron from Agent Hotchner when things get to be too much for the team leader. Set about mid season three. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hotch has been my favourite character right from the start and one of the things I love about him is that from the very first episode you see the dichotomy of his character as he struggles between the roles of Agent Hotchner and family man, Aaron Hotchner. This fic attempts to explore his troubles with this duality after Hayley has left him, so it is set mid-season 3.**_

_**Hotch may seem a little OOC in that he actually expresses emotion here instead of hiding it all behind his usual stoic façade, but the point of this fic is to explore the character when things get to be a bit too much for him.**_

_**I've reviewed and re-edited this fic, expanding it in the parts that I felt needed a little more flesh and correcting any little errors I've found along the way, but I haven't changed the story-line.  
**_

* * *

Not many people ever get to meet Aaron Hotchner these days, as he's hidden behind a smart suit, a stoic façade and a pair of dark, watchful eyes.

Agent Hotchner, however, is well known.

Agent Hotchner is a brilliant profiler, a highly competent team leader, an excellent Unit Chief and a dedicated FBI agent.

Agent Hotchner is a born field agent who always gets his man; his dogged determination to see each and every case through to the end has earned him several nicknames throughout the FBI, some more colourful than others.

Agent Hotchner is a man that his team can always rely upon, whether for emotional support after a rough case, back-up in the field or standing up for them against the ever increasing demands and pressures brought forth by Section Chief Strauss.

Agent Hotchner is the FBI's BAU 'go-to' man.

Victims who meet Agent Hotchner are treated with care and respect, calm and compassion; he doesn't drown them with false sympathies or ply them with meaningless and unwelcome platitudes. He doesn't drag out questioning; Agent Hotchner is polite but to the point, empathic but probing.

UnSubs who meet Agent Hotchner see a stone-faced FBI agent with a steady gun and sure aim pointed their way. They meet an agent they cannot fool; every movement, expression and word they make is carefully catalogued by those dark, watchful, calculating eyes.

It is agreed by most who meet him that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner is one hell of an FBI agent.

Aaron, however, wishes that sometimes, just sometimes, it is not such an uphill struggle to separate himself from Agent Hotchner.

It is hard to go home after cases involving children and look into his vulnerable young son's eyes and truly believe that Jack will make it through the world unscathed.

It is hard not to look at his own childhood and, with the clinical detachment that a profiler's eye must carry with it, compare and contrast the abuse he suffered at the hands of his cruel and overbearing father with the upbringing of his latest UnSub.

His academic background might be in law but he has taken enough courses and gathered enough experience for a solid understanding in the basics of psychology, and because of that he knows he has issues.

His abusive childhood left him with little in the way of a support network; his father's overbearing nature and quick temper left a lasting impression that decades could not erase, even after the man's premature death. When the man flew into a drunken rage, taking everything from him, from childhood innocence to any form of control, Aaron was left a beaten, bloody mess trying to understand what he could possibly have done to deserve such treatment.

He knows his issues with his mother are just as deep, if not more so, for a son cannot help but wonder how or why his mother simply stands aside and watches as her husband beats his child into submission, never offering a word of comfort as cuts are cleaned and bandaged while an irreversible distance grows between them.

He knows that he feels resentment towards Sean, because Aaron had acted as his protector and spared him from the cuts and bruises, the anger, the despair and the self-flagellation while he had no one to save him. He also knows that this resentment is unfair and hates himself for it, but no matter how hard he tries he cannot seem to let it go and, in a continued effort to protect his brother from any form of pain, keeps Sean at arm's length.

His courses and seminars in psychology tell him that all these feelings are perfectly normal and certainly understandable, words he has used himself when interviewing UnSubs and victims alike, but regardless he cannot always come to terms with them.

His knowledge allows him to understand that his need for control relates to his total lack of it during his childhood, that his wary nature is related to too many years of being forced to rely solely upon himself and too often being disappointed with the actions or inaction of others, while his somewhat aloof personality is nothing more than an added barrier of protection for his already battered heart.

Such comprehensive introspection is not uncommon amongst the members of the BAU who have the know-how to go about analysing it all.

Sometimes this introspection is more than a little unwelcome.

Sometimes the inability to lie even to yourself, to _make_ yourself believe that everything is going to be ok, is exhausting.

Sometimes he curses the knowledge and self-awareness this job has brought with it.

It is at times like this where he cannot fault Gideon for leaving, even if he detests the way the older man went about it.

He knows that Boston changed many things, including the decrease of quality family time; Gideon's major depressive episode and the scrutiny that attracted from the top Brass had forced Hotchner into an even heavier case load which undoubtedly affected his home life.

He wonders if the fallout from Gideon's abrupt exit exacerbated or numbed the effects of Hayley and Jack's departure; sometimes he feels as though he is stuck in a tailspin, unable to even catch his breath, while other times he feels as though the clocks are dragging their hands.

He loves Hayley with a deep passion that years of marriage has never managed to diminish; even after taking his son from him, Aaron can find no malice for her.

Their marriage had always been a good one but it was never perfect and Aaron's jaded outlook on life had stopped him from believing in those long before he joined the FBI, long before the issue of marriage ever came up.

Hayley had her doubts when Aaron had expressed an interest in swapping his law office for the Academy, but she supported him nonetheless, knowing that he felt passionately about the change and that he needed something different, something _more_. Explanations and understandings seemed so much easier back then, before his work with the BAU spiralled so quickly into a never ending demand on his time and energy.

Hayley has always been fiercely protective of those she loves and Aaron has only seen that trait strengthen since Jack arrived into their lives. For her, family always came first no matter what, and she couldn't understand that while Aaron was just as protective, he didn't have that same staunch, blind faith in the strength of familial bonds; he would undoubtedly do anything for his family, but he also knows that Jack and Hayley are not the only ones who need him.

His team needs a leader they can trust, now more than ever. With the gap left behind by Gideon's abrupt departure still being keenly felt, and the introduction of the rather unorthodox BAU legend, Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi, things are far from being on an even keel and Aaron does not want to be the one to upset the careful balance they are beginning to find for themselves.

So he has to hide his doubts, and he has several: how can you ever believe there is any real value to your life when your own mother never once even attempted to stop her husband from beating you? How can you imagine the possibility of learning to love someone new after the one person you've loved most of your life decides your marriage is no longer worth fighting for? How can you be a good father if your son isn't there when you come home? How can you be a good boss and a good friend at the same time?

Aaron is a man plagued by self-doubt, but he hides it all behind a stoic face. He has, over the years, hidden so much of himself behind the job, behind the persona of FBI SSA Hotchner, that sometimes he has difficulty finding Aaron at all, even in the darkness of his own, empty house.

* * *

_**There we have it, chapter one up and done with – please let me know what you think.**_

_**Brass – slang term for the higher ups, usually referring to the military or law enforcement.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two is up and thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review/message, your support and encouragement is, as always, much appreciated.**_

_**On with the story…**_

* * *

The weekend had come and gone far too quickly for Aaron. Agent Hotchner had spent most of his Saturday finishing up paperwork on the last case. Aaron had spent most of his Sunday with Jack, playing in the park and eating ice-cream and having to part too soon. Returning to the office was a hard task on that dark, rainy Monday.

"Hey Hotch," Reid nods with a small smile before burying his nose back in a book on the fall of the Byzantine Empire that he will undoubtedly finish before Aaron has even managed to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Reid," Hotch offers quietly before carrying on towards his office, collapsing into his chair with a long sigh.

David Rossi had been leaning against Morgan's desk drinking his second cup of coffee that morning and talking quietly with Prentiss when he saw his friend enter; he noticed the clouded expression in those dark eyes, the lethargy in his movements, the momentary hesitation before entering his office. Dave saw all this and frowned.

He had been away from the BAU for over ten years, but it had never truly left him; coming back and working for his former protégé obviously has its more awkward moments, but with the creases finally ironed out, Rossi can honestly say that he is happy working where he is. He can see that Aaron excels at his job and that he has helped to create an excellent team. They all work well together, balancing each other out and keeping a sense of humour despite the fact that they're forced to deal with the worst of human nature on a daily basis.

He had once worked with Gideon, but that was a long time ago, before Jason found his very own, very personal demons. Gideon had always been more relaxed than Hotch; he used to share more of himself than he has ever seen Aaron do. From what he understands, that changed after Boston.

Rossi knows what it is like to have things haunt you, and he can appreciate Gideon's need to leave; after all, he did the same thing ten years ago. However, no matter how hard he tries he cannot comprehend _how_ Gideon left. Rossi had resigned, finished up his mandatory time and moved on to writing. Gideon just up and left, leaving no excuses, no apologies, only a letter. _A letter! To Reid!_

Reid was Gideon's protégé, so he can understand why Reid received a letter; but what about Aaron? Aaron, who was losing a friend and former mentor? Aaron, who was losing a senior agent who helped with the running of the unit and the welfare of the team? Aaron, who was having all this responsibility dumped suddenly in his lap?

Every time Rossi sees those circles round Aaron's eyes grow just a little darker and that face just a little more world-weary, he feels nothing but anger towards Jason Gideon. Dave's been away for over ten years, and while he may not have forgotten what the job involves, he certainly still has a lot to learn in regards to new technology and new bureaucratic demands. Try as he might, he knows he is not yet very efficient in helping Aaron run their little part of the BAU.

Taking a deep breathe, Rossi finishes his coffee and heads towards Aaron's office, already knowing how the conversation he is about to try and initiate will likely play out.

* * *

Agent Hotchner is hunched over his desk looking over the paperwork that he needs to hand in to Strauss by the end of the week. He has always hated this type of paperwork more than any other; twice a year he is required to report to Strauss on his team.

Personnel reviews are very common in the FBI but are considered more important for certain departments; the stress and horrors that work at the BAU entails make it one of these departments. He has a good team, an excellent team in fact, a team that he not only likes but respects hugely and trusts with his life. To write down their faults and his concerns over their mental well-being and then to deliver these words to a woman like Strauss, a woman he neither likes nor respects, a woman he certainly doesn't trust, feels like some sort of betrayal on his part.

A gentle knock at the door causes him to look up hesitantly, expecting to see JJ; he isn't sure if he's ready to face another case just yet. He's pleased to see Dave, head poking round the doorframe, however, his pleasure fades when he sees the concern on his old friend's face, and he becomes even more worried when he realises that concern is aimed at him.

"Everything ok?" he asks hesitantly, unsure of whether or not he wants to hear what Dave has to say.

Dave sighs. _'Damn profilers! He's already suspicious!'_ He enters the room, closing the door behind him and takes a seat opposite Aaron. He slowly leans forward, taking a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.

"Hotch…are you…I was just…" Dave sighs deeply once more and falls back into the chair scrubbing at his face. _He _is the older profiler here, _he_ is the one that found Hotch and brought him to the BAU; so why is _he_ the one feeling like some damn rookie!

Aaron has known Dave for many years, and knows him as someone who is never afraid to speak his mind; he is direct and clear and concise. To hear Rossi stumble over his words in such a way is almost enough to shock him into talking…almost.

"Aaron," Rossi tries again, "you seem more…withdrawn…than usual. Is everything alright? And don't try and lie to me Aaron, I am a profiler!" he finishes with a small lop-sided grin on his face. His grin fades when he realises he's talking to Agent Hotchner and not to Aaron.

* * *

Jennifer Jareau is not a profiler, she doesn't _want_ to be a profiler, she has never even taken a course in profiling; despite all this, when JJ walks into her boss' office with an armful of files she feels the tension in the air, the worry emanating from Rossi and the relief coming from Hotch.

Hotch is beyond glad to see JJ, and in spite of his earlier desire to avoid another case so soon after the last one, the files too were a welcome sight. Rossi is a professional, and if there is a case he will focus on that and not on Hotch.

Rossi, like JJ, picks up on Hotch's relief, and that only serves to strengthen his resolve in finding out what is chipping away at Aaron's normally unbreakable armour. However, the job has to come first; he nods at JJ. "Another one already? Where are we off to this time?"

JJ can hear the fatigue in Dave's voice and see it written very clearly across Hotch's face. It is at times like this that she doesn't enjoy her job; she hates having to be the one always bringing bad news to the team and cancelling any downtime they have managed to find. However, Detective Robert Swanson needs help with a series of murders; the fact that these murders involve young children means JJ didn't even think twice before accepting the case file.

"Sorry guys, but I thought this was something that needed to be met with sooner rather than later." She hands Hotch her quickly assembled notes outlining the case so far, which he starts leafing through slowly. "Looks to be a serial killer in Pittsburgh, victims are children between the ages of five and ten, same MO in the execution."

Rossi looks up at JJ with surprise, "Execution? Literally or figuratively?"

Hotch looks sickened, and hands over a crime-scene photograph to Rossi, "Literally!" he gestured to the bullet wound on the young girl's forehead. "JJ, we're taking this; gather the team and have them meet in the conference room. I want this done quickly; hopefully we can get wheels up within the hour." With that, Hotch stalks out.

JJ pauses by the door, "Rossi, is Hotch ok? He seems slightly…overwhelmed," she finishes, sure she hasn't found the right adjective for her boss's current mood.

"I'm working on it, don't worry!" But despite his words, Rossi _is_ worried; Hotch rarely lets his façade drop in front of his team. Just what is going on with him?

* * *

The mood on the plane is sombre and quiet; they are headed to Pittsburgh looking for a serial killer with a violent, sadistic streak towards children. The team has faced many tough cases together, _some_ they can never forget no matter how hard they try; they haven't even got their teeth into this case yet, but already the team knows this will be a hard one to recover from.

JJ is reviewing Detective Swanson's case notes and looking over the current media coverage on the killings; suffice to say she has a lot of work to do when she lands. She steals brief glances down the aisle, taking in her boss' stiff posture and tight mouth. Nevertheless, she has come to trust in Rossi as an integral part of the team and knows that Hotch relies upon him; if Rossi has said that he is _'working on it'_ then she has no reason to believe otherwise.

Spencer Reid, whilst very perceptive and knowledgeable about all sorts of things, lacks the confidence in his social finesse to bring forth his concerns in a diplomatic and sensitive manner. He has seen the look on his boss' face and knows that the lines in his forehead are not from the case alone; however, he wouldn't even know how to approach Hotch on the matter.

Emily Prentiss is still reeling over the after-effects of Erin Strauss's little power-play games and Reid's angry rebuff about her not really knowing the team yet. It is good to know that Hotch trusts her on the team despite what Strauss has tried to make her do, but she still feels as though perhaps she has not yet truly earned her position at the BAU.

She knows Hotch is a private, reserved man and consequently knows that any interference on her part will not likely be welcome. Maybe in the future…? One day, Emily is sure that she will feel as though she can step up and help ease the burdens on her teammates with a little less awkwardness on both sides. She is patient; she can wait.

Derek Morgan might be a secret geek and a novice land-agent, but he is also a profiler, and an observant one at that. He has seen his boss these past few months and he has carfully watched the tense and fatigue-ridden man with growing concern; he has seen JJ, Emily and Reid steal nervous glances towards their boss; he has certainly noticed Rossi's unabashed staring.

Morgan will be one of the first to admit that he is not yet particularly impressed with Rossi; the agent has good insights and is a natural profiler, but Morgan struggles to see him as a team player, and certainly as a friend. However, there is clearly a bond between the two oldest members of the team, one that comes naturally between an agent and his mentor, the same one that exists between Hotch and himself.

Trust and respect are important for members of the FBI, and even more so within the BAU, where the horrors they face can easily destroy any faith they might have in the so-called good of humanity. A good team can stop an agent from burning out; Morgan just hopes that they haven't missed any signs of Hotch's possible breakdown!

Rossi is sitting across from Hotch, openly watching his friend and former protégé. He is perfectly happy for Aaron to catch him looking and utterly content to receive each and every glare Aaron sends his way. Dave is not going to let Hotch avoid the conversation for long; it might have been interrupted back in the office, but it is definitely _not _over, and he is more than happy to let Aaron know that.

Hotch, for his part, is very much aware of _everyone_ on the plane; he catches each and every one of JJ's quick, not-quite-as-stealthy-as-she-would-believe looks; he recognises Reid's indecision; he spies Prentiss's almost wistful gaze; he notices Morgan's frequent glances between himself and Rossi; most of all he is aware of Dave's openly watchful gaze, staring without any remorse, and almost without blinking.

And he hates it all!

He sends another glare towards Dave for good measure but simply receives yet another smug grin in return. Will it cause any upset amongst the team if he were to lean across the table and sock Rossi in the mouth? Hotch is sure that Morgan, at least, won't mind.

Dave is still staring…stubborn son of a bitch. Hotch crosses his arms and hunkers down in his seat as he forces himself to look at the file in front of him rather than focus on the distractions of his team. He has a mantra running through his head…

"_I will get off this plane, I will get off this plane, I will get off this plane…I will not kill Rossi and hide the body, I will not kill Rossi and hide the body, I will not kill Rossi and hide the body…I will get off this plane…I hope…!"_

Across from him, Rossi smiles another smug, knowing smile.

Aaron glowers right back.

* * *

_**As you can tell, not the biggest Gideon fan - found him a little too self-righteous and not all that interesting, and I certainly didn't like the way he left the team.**_

_**Still more to come! Let me know what you think.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks for reviews/messages – much appreciated.**_

_**The case moves on and Rossi is getting impatient waiting for Hotch. The UnSub is slowly unearthed, but complications arise.**_

_**There is mention of rape and torture in this chapter but there are no details.**_

* * *

The small, over-crowded police precinct is hot and the air stale; _'Perfect!'_ Hotch thinks wryly to himself; he feels as though he should have expected _something_ to go and make the day that bit more unpleasant given the way it started out.

The team follow their well-rehearsed schedule and introduce themselves to the case detective, Robert Swanson, before Hotch quickly assigns everyone their tasks.

He gives himself and Prentiss the job of slowly working their way through _everything_ that Swanson and his team have managed to find so far and to pick out the most likely leads before setting the FBI's technical analyst bloodhound, Penelope Garcia, on the case.

Reid is immediately set to work on mapping out a geographical profile, it being one of many areas in which the young man excels; he immediately settles down at a table and seemingly drowns out the surrounding noises without any real effort as he pours over maps of the dump sites and cross-references them with what intel the team have already managed to pull from the case file.

JJ is given the unenviable task of dealing with the media and to try and calm the journalists that have quickly set up camp outside the precinct. Hotch is always thankful at times like this that he has JJ on his team; she can balance the press with a practiced ease and stop them from interfering with their on-going cases while, at the same time, keeping them on the FBI's side.

He sends Morgan and Rossi to visit the latest body dump-site with Detective Swanson; the desire to get away from Rossi, his watchful eyes and probing questions having absolutely no bearing on that decision whatsoever…of course not!

* * *

By the time everyone reconvenes later in the afternoon to pool their gathered intel, minds are tired and stomachs desperately growling for food; however, the team know they are working against the clock and want to get a preliminary profile worked up before another child is taken.

Temporarily ignoring hunger pangs, fraying tempers and Rossi's very obvious observations of their boss, the team settle down with Swanson around a large table in a small conference room, papers spread out in an ordered way. They discuss their findings, comparing and contrasting theories before finally agreeing on a preliminary profile.

Satisfied that they have got all they can for now, the team head back to the bullpen and ask for everyone's attention.

Hotch heads to the front of the room and everyone falls silent, eager to hear something that might stop the monster currently trawling their streets and hurting young children.

"Ok, we have a preliminary profile, this means that we may well be able to deduce a more concise profile from his future crimes, but we really don't want to see any more children in the morgue for that to happen.

"We're are most likely looking for a white male, mid-twenties to late thirties. His IQ is probably below average, but make no mistake about it, he has a complete understanding of his actions and the possible consequences.

"He finds it difficult to relate to people his own age, but the children he feels he _can_ be open with are afraid of him, this avoidance of him likely causes an undue amount of aggression at the slightest perceived transgression against him. His social personality disorders will make him conspicuous meaning he _will_ stand out in his community; people, and especially young, easily scared children, will try to avoid him and his rather intrusive, overbearing manner. Those who know him will not be surprised to learn that this man is our suspect."

Morgan takes over; "There is an obvious sexual component to the crime," he states, referring to the rape mentioned in the autopsy reports. "However, judging by the extensive scarring the UnSub seems to takes greater pleasure in the torture rather than in the actual rape, that is where he seems to take his time. This most likely serves as an outlet for his aggression and that amount of anger will most likely leak into his everyday life; torturing animals, talking maliciously to his neighbours and work colleagues, demeaning them for his own amusement, or it may even exhibit itself in a physical confrontation.

"The autopsy reports document the attacks and clearly show that there was no hesitation on his part; this suggests that we're either missing at least one other victim or that he's simply well versed in this type of behaviour. He may well have faced previous accusations of sexual deviancy and assault, and you can certainly expect to find plenty of child pornography in his home; this man is _not_ shy about his preferences."

"The geographical profile indicates that our UnSub lives in one of the poorer districts of the city; his dump-sites have all been around this major industrial area," Reid points to a specific location on the map, "these areas have been heavily canvassed but nothing out of the ordinary has been noticed, so it's safe to assume that he has a commercial vehicle, most likely a van that blends in with his surroundings.

"He also appears to be very familiar with the area, knowing where to avoid and what time to go; we believe he works or _has_ worked in this area before, therefore giving him all the necessary knowledge to leave the bodies without being noticed by anyone."

Prentiss stands up, fluently taking the lead from Reid, "There is no effort to hide evidence; the CSU's have managed to find semen, fingerprints, fabric fibres, tace elements of various chemicals, even a couple of drops of blood that don't match the victims…however, there are no matches which means that while this man may well have been _accused_ of previous crimes, this is someone who has not been _processed_ through the criminal system.

"His intelligence seems high enough to make him aware of being cautious while he dumps the bodies, however, his apathy concerning the evidence left behind suggests that he is either unaware of even the most basic of forensic countermeasures or, more likely, that he is overly arrogant; with no record of his DNA in our system, he does not believe we are _capable_ of catching him."

Rossi finishes up, "This is a man who has most likely grown up in an abusive environment. When he wasn't being physically abused, he was neglected; in the absence of any real structure in his life he drew up his own rules governing the way he lived and found unhealthy ways to vent his anger and frustration. His peers at school likely avoided him, furthering his isolation.

"He is angry, he is twisted and he does not follow a conventional set of laws, having long ago created his own. The decreasing days between bodies shows us he is devolving towards a frenzy. He will not stop until he is caught."

Hotch takes centre stage again. "So far, no one on your interview list matches this profile, which means he's still out there and he's looking for another victim. We feel the best place to start is with employers and employees in the industrial areas where the bodies have turned up. You need to pay particular attention to the area around the first dump site, as he would most likely not have strayed too far outside of his comfort zone in the early days; that is one of our best bets at finding our UnSub at this time."

There are quiet mutterings between the officers while they gather together their affects and pair off, ready to dig through mounds of paperwork and canvass local businesses close to the dump sites.

"Hotch," JJ stands slowly with some notes in her hand, "shall I get this profile out to the press?"

"Yes, as soon as possible; someone out there knows our UnSub. Get ready, we're in for a busy afternoon." Hotch turns and catches Rossi's calculating look directed his way once again; Aaron tries hard not to roll his eyes and leaves to get some more coffee before discovering what Garcia has unearthed.

* * *

After the profile had been released to the press the day did indeed become very long , but the team is all too well aware that they cannot afford to do anything _but_ follow every possible lead; so far it has been nothing more than a colossal waste of time, unless a wheelchair bound ninety-seven year old woman with partial paralysis down her left side really _is_ their UnSub, right alongside Elvis Presley and Lord Lucan!

The team is tired, hungry and despondent after chasing down several false leads and they are about to order in some food when a likely looking report comes in over the net.

They all want to catch the sick son of a bitch alive so the UnSub can spend the rest of his days suffering behind bars; with that in mind Hotch orders all cars to keep their lights and sirens off, and for all squad cars to remain out of sight of the UnSub's residence.

* * *

Marshall Keating's apartment is in a run-down tenement building; the railings outside are crooked and missing in places, the lock on the main door is broken and the electrics in the hallway faulty so that every ten seconds or so, the lights flickers on and off, before tentatively lighting the way again.

Hotch, gun drawn, is in point position, with Rossi slightly behind and to the left, and Morgan directly behind, covering their rear. JJ, Prentiss and Reid are covering the back alley way and searching for the van that will likely be crucial in making sure they have the necessary evidence to put the UnSub behind bars for a long, long time, while the local LEO's corden off the surrounding area.

The stairwell is dark, and the floor sticky; the acrid smell of urine and the stale smell of cigarette smoke burns the nose-hairs and Rossi is forced to kick a used syringe out of his way, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he does so. This is by no means the filthiest place the team have ever visited, but it is certainly one of the more depressing ones out there.

Progress to the second floor is quick, no-one eager to hang about in the hallway any longer than needed. Through the open window at the end of the hall, the shrieks of young children playing on the playground of a nearby elementary school can barely be heard above the heavy industrial traffic on the busy road below. A siren can be heard in the distance, growing fainter as it heads towards it destination.

Suddenly, a door at the other end of the hall opens, and Marshall Keating walks out.

He is not much to look at; he has a medium height and build, slightly over-weight; it is probably that extra weight which enables him to dominate others rather than any brute strength on his part. His hair is short and messy, a dark mahogany colour, with a little patch of white behind his left ear. His eyes are a dusty blue, small and too close together.

His clothes are shaggy and torn, and his posture is slightly hunched. Marshall Keating is walking with purpose…until he catches sight of three FBI agents with guns down his hallway. He quickly turns tail and runs back into his apartment.

"Mr. Keating? Mr. Keating, I'm Agent Hotchner, I'm with the FBI. We just want to talk to you; nothing more!" The agents inch carefully towards apartment number 211. Hotch takes position on one side of the door, Rossi on the other. Morgan is on the comm. link with the others, up-dating them on the situation and warning them to keep an eye open in case Keating tries to make a desperate run for it out of the window.

"Garcia couldn't find any evidence of gun possession?" Dave quietly asks.

"No records she could find, but you and I have both seen how easy it is to get a gun without leaving a paper trail, and we know he executed the children with a small calibre handgun," Hotch warns quietly, before he tries once more to get Keating to come out willingly. "Mr. Keating, we just need to ask you a few questions that's all; you answer those and then we can all go home."

There is no answer.

Morgan is getting impatient, "On three?"

Hotch nods, and gestures for Morgan to ready to kick in the door as he and Rossi ready themselves to cover him.

"One, Two, Three!" With a quick kick, the wood splinters and the agents rush into the small, untidy apartment. Three doors lead off the small entrance corridor and an open entry into the living area and kitchen; they methodically open the first two doors, finding an empty bedroom and a rancid bathroom - no Keating.

Morgan takes point on the last door only to discover yet another empty bedroom, closets bare, under the bed nothing but dust bunnies and dirty clothes. The three agents line up once more as they head towards the living area, Morgan once again on point, with Rossi bringing up the rear.

Just as Morgan clears the kitchen area where the cabinets offer a potential hiding area, there is a loud crash to their right and before anyone can react, Keating fires his gun.

* * *

_**What did you think? As always, I'd love to hear your feedback as well as any potential errors I may have made.**_

_**Lord Lucan - he was a British Peer accused of murdering his children's nanny in 1974, but he disappeared before he could be arrested. There are all sorts of conspiracy theories surrounding him, each more ridiculous than the last; some believe he is still alive - he would be almost 80 years old now.**_

_**LEO - Law Enforcement Officer.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thanks once again for all of the reviews people!**_

_**Who got shot? The agents deal with the fallout.**_

_**There are a few swear words in this chapter – sorry if it offends but I felt the situation warranted them. There is also mention of a dead child, but nothing too graphic.**_

* * *

Agent Hotchner enters the living room, covering Morgan as he checks behind the kitchen cabinets when a loud noise from the side catches his attention. He turns to meet the noise, gun raised and ready to fire, but before he can target the man before him, Keating fires his gun.

Hotch fires, Rossi fires, Morgan fires, and Keating falls, dead before he even hits the floor.

Morgan secures the gun from Keating's limp hand while Rossi checks for a pulse, feeling darkly satisfied when he can't find one.

As the adrenaline begins to wear off, Hotch feels a burning pain in his right shoulder; looking down he sees his own crimson blood soaking into one of his more comfortable suits.

"Dammit!" he moans loudly as he begins to feel the effects of the injury, the pain crawling its way across his shoulder.

Dave and Morgan, upon hearing their normally stoic boss spit out the rare cuss word look to where he is standing; taking in the sight of the blood and the pain in Hotch's eyes they quickly make their way over to him.

Rossi tries to lead him over towards the moth-eaten sofa in the corner, quite sure it could well invite infection further down the line, but Hotch looks fit to fall on his face and add a concussion to the mix if he doesn't sit down sooner rather than later; "Come on Aaron, sit down. Morgan, call an ambulance."

Hotch jerks himself out of Dave's arms only to regret it immediately as he feels the pain burning its way through his right shoulder. "Fuck!" he cries out as the pain becomes almost unbearable. "Morgan, get off the phone, I don't need a damn ambulance."

"Come on Hotch, you're bleeding pretty badly," Derek tries to reason with his obstinate boss, worry and frustration warring with each other.

"Ignore him Morgan, get an ambulance here, now," Rossi bites out as he watches the stain on Aaron's right shoulder grow with alarming speed. Derek nods, and moves to a far corner, aware that it might be wiser to let Dave handle their boss when he is in a particularly belligerent mood. Rossi watches him go then turns back and pins Aaron with a glare.

"Hotch, you will be going to the hospital, conscious or unconscious, but if it's all the same to you I'd rather not break my fist on your hard head," Rossi stares down at Hotch, unblinking, resolve rigid.

"I thought _I_ was the Unit Chief." Hotch grumbles, more to himself than to anyone else; how he hates being out of control!

"You've been injured; this is when I'm _supposed_ to step in." Rossi replies as he leads a mutinous-looking Hotch to the couch and helps to gently ease him down onto the sofa. Rather than search for anything suitable inside Keating's dirty apartment, Dave removes his own jacket and holds it over Hotch's wound. A quick nod from the other man, and Dave put pressure on the wound wincing as his friend holds in a painful cry.

"Christ," Rossi mumbles as he gets a closer look at the sofa, taking in every mark and stain. "Think of the cultures you could gather from this thing!"

"I'd rather not," Hotch replies with a wince as he tries to find a more comfortable position. "You could always drive me to the hospital, we don't need an ambulance; it's not like it's bleeding all _that_ much." Hotch knows he has resorted to bargaining but he is desperate; he could tell, however, by Rossi's firm countenance that the older man's resolve has not been weakened.

"Aaron, you _will_ sit here quietly. You _will_ let the paramedics examine you without a fuss. You _will_ go to the hospital. You _will_ let the doctors fix you up. And so help me God, if you even think the initials AMA, I _will_ kick your ass so hard you won't be able to find it with both hands and a mirror. Understood?"

Hotch tries to stop himself from glaring up at Dave, feeling too much like a young teenager in trouble with the headmaster, so instead he looks down at his feet and nods quietly. He has his wallet on him; he can probably find an orderly to help him out to a taxi if his team are going to insist on being so unhelpful.

Morgan hears all of this and snickers gently to himself in the corner, earning a deadly glare from his boss. _'Damn, I'm so going to pay for that later!'_ he thinks to himself. _'Definitely worth it though,'_ he unsuccessfully tries to swallow back his smile. He rarely gets to see Hotch in a state where the man is anything less than being in complete control and Morgan enjoys seeing this more human side to the well-respected agent.

Rossi isn't fooled by Aaron's seemingly submissive stance; head bowed, his shoulders hunched in pain, Dave could hear the gears turning. Even at his lowest point, Aaron Hotchner was not the type of man to throw in the towel; the man simply didn't have it in him. _'Whatever you're thinking Aaron, it won't work.'_

* * *

Reid, JJ and Prentiss have been scouring the back alleys in the surrounding area, while uniforms keep an eye on the fire escapes of the nearby tenement buildings, ready to shoot Keating if he tries to flee.

A cry from Prentiss alerts JJ and Reid to a derelict building that looks as though it once housed a mechanics workshop; rusting car parts are spread all over the floor and the smell of oil is everywhere. There in the middle, amongst the litter and oil stains, is a rusty white van; the paint is flaking and the company emblem is too far gone to clearly see what it once resembled.

They take their guns out, ever cautious, and inch towards the van. Reid checks the cabin at the front, while JJ and Emily move round to the back. The van is locked and the windows dirty, but peering through the grime enables them to glimpse the horror contained within.

Prentiss breaks a window and unlocks the back door from the inside. Pulling open the door, the agents have to rush back to draw in some much needed air; the smell of rancid oil is a godsend compared to the odour coming out of the van.

Inside lies the broken body of a child, naked from the waist down and covered in blood. The young girl's arms are tied to the cross bars of the van's supporting structure; she is lying in a pool of crusty blood, too much to have come solely from her tiny frame.

"Looks like this is where he had his fun," Prentiss chokes out, finding it hard to compartmentalise at this precise moment in time.

Reid pretends he hasn't noticed JJ's grief-stricken face or Prentiss's struggle to keep her infamous cool and attempts to cling desperately to his own mask of professionalism. "Yes, judging by the volume of blood on the floor of the van this is where he tortured and killed them, and from her state of undress where he raped them too. We need to call this in, there will be important evidence here."

"And the girl Spence, she's important too," JJ whispers, unable to look away from the grisly sight before her; "this was someone's little girl, they'll want to know that she's been found."

Reid gently places his arm around JJ's shoulder and tries to lead her away; "Don't worry about that JJ, we'll work on ID-ing her and then we'll find her parents."

The three of them head back to the alleyway and inform one of the uniforms about the van; Reid swiftly gets on his radio and is halfway through informing his fellow agents through their earpieces about the van and that the M.E and the CSI's are on their way when they hear a shot.

Drawing their guns, they race back to the main street, in through the broken door and up the reeking stairwell, followed by several officers. Pausing outside apartment 211, Prentiss calls for the rest of her team, heart beating so fast and so hard she is sure it is attempting to burst through her ribcage. "Hotch, Morgan, Rossi? You ok? We're coming in!"

The three agents burst though the already splintered door, and stop at the sight in front of them.

Morgan is standing in a corner looking at Rossi and Hotch and failing to hide his amusement; Rossi is quietly scolding their boss, and Hotch…Hotch is sitting down on a moth-eaten sofa, blood soaking though his suit, alternating between glaring at Rossi and Morgan and looking at his shoes, thoroughly fed-up.

She shares a glance with the two behind her and clearly they are thinking along the same lines as her: what on earth happened here?

* * *

The medics come and, following Rossi's orders, Hotch isn't complaining vocally or creating a fuss; in fact Aaron isn't vocalising anything at all, despite the medics probing questions.

Rossi slaps him up the back of the head and glares at him "I thought I'd made myself clear earlier!"

Aaron is still feeling mutinous and dreads going to a damn hospital; the fact that his whole team are now witness to his embarrassment only adds fuel to the already raging fire within. "You said I was to sit _'quietly' _and let them examine me _'without a fuss,'_ that's what I'm doing." In truth, the blood loss is beginning to grab a hold of him, exhaustion is seeping it's through to his very bones, and he's struggling to keep focused or to find the energy to do much beyond simply sitting down.

Rossi's eyes narrow. "Just get in the damn ambulance. Morgan, JJ, you stay here, sort out this mess and go through the apartment, see if you can find anything on potential victims. Reid, Prentiss, you said you found the van…once the body's gone, look though it with the CSI's; we have a lot of parents wanting to know what happened to their children."

The other four want to go with their boss and make sure he is ok, but taking in Rossi's glares and Hotch's equally antagonistic expression, they wisely keep their mouths closed and get on with their set tasks.

* * *

The ride in the ambulance is quiet and tense, but eventually the events of the day begin to overwhelm Hotch, and he lies down on the gurney and closes his eyes. Seeing Hotch's quiet surrender and taking in the lines of pain creasing his forehead, Rossi reaches out and gently squeezed Aaron's left hand, unsure if the man should be falling asleep just yet.

"You ok?" he asks quietly.

Aaron doesn't open his eyes but answers with a whisper, "I will be, it's a through and through and I don't think it touched the bone."

Rossi sighs; that is not what he is really asking. "At least it was your right shoulder and not your left!" he states trying to find a bright side to it all in an effort to lighten the mood.

At this, Aaron does open his eyes and tries with a weary effort to glare at his former mentor; "I may _write_ left-handed, but I _shoot_ right-handed. You've worked with me how many years and you don't know that?"

"There's a lot I don't know" Rossi states quietly, looking Hotch straight in the eye with a meaningful look.

_'Great,'_ thought Hotch wearily, _'back to this!'_

Rossi sighs and once again looks his former protégé straight in the eye; "I think we need to talk, don't you?"

* * *

_**Please let me know what you think and if you spot any errors.**_

_**Sorry Brummie10 and Ecda, I know you wanted it to be Rossi who got shot, and I definitely agree that Hotch has been through enough, but it's not a serious injury and I needed to get Hotch weak enough to lower his defences and talk to Rossi.**_

_**The left-handed/right-handed thing is true, always thought it was odd.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thanks for all the supportive reviews.**_

_**Hotch's physical wound is stitched up, but the emotional ones are still bleeding.**_

* * *

_Rossi sighed and once again looked his former protégée straight in the eye; "I think we need to talk, don't you?"_

* * *

Aaron sighs, knowing there is no escape this time; he knows that no matter what, Dave will continue to probe for the answers he seems to be seeking for so desperately. Aaron knows he has been slightly out of character these past few weeks, he is aware that the _team_ is aware, but he cannot seem to find the strength or energy necessary to hide away his emotions this time.

He doesn't really know how to talk about what is bothering him, there is too much and yet not one specific, easily identifiable incident. He sighs deeply again. "Can it at least wait until the doctors have stitched up my arm? Please!" he implores his old friend, hoping that by then the pain will be duller and he will be better able to focus on the matter at hand.

Dave initially worries that Aaron is simply trying to avoid him again but the quiet, almost desperate _'please'_ seems to countermand that and it is his undoing; the pain in his friend's eyes is unmistakeable and so Rossi nods his head with a small, understanding smile.

Aaron returns the nod with gratitude and sinks further down into the gurney and closes his eyes once again in a desperate bid to compose himself.

* * *

The ER is having a relatively quiet evening; people at the nearby nurses' station are chatting away about the latest hospital gossip and doctors and nurses alike are attempting to finish overdue paperwork so that they can finish their shift on time.

It was over two hours ago that the ambulance carrying two exhausted FBI agents pulled up outside.

It was over one hour ago that the wound in SSA Hotchner's arm was cleansed, stitched and bound.

It was over forty-five ago that Agent Hotchner had made his feeling about a sling known.

It was over forty-three minutes ago that Agent Rossi had threatened further bodily harm if Agent Hotchner tried to discard the sling.

And it was just over ten minutes ago that the doctor had left, off to gather paperwork and prescriptions.

Aaron and Dave are sitting side by side on a hospital bed in a curtained-off cubicle; with the fatigue of the case catching up to the both of them and the pain-killers pulsating through Hotch's system, the silence is understandable and more than welcome.

"You doing ok, Aaron?" Rossi asks quietly.

His only reply is a sleepy "Mmm" coming from beside him.

As soon as the remaining paperwork is completed and they receive the prescription for pain-killers (which Rossi knows Hotch will try to avoid taking) and antibiotics (which Rossi will force-feed Hotch if he even thinks about trying to avoid taking). He has called the rest of the team, who _should_ be sleeping soundly in their hotel beds, and lets them know that their boss is ok, and that the two of them will be heading over to the hotel to get some sleep for themselves.

They step out of the hospital with a mumbled _'Thank God'_ from Hotch and a small smile from Dave. Rossi stands closely beside his protégé without touching; he knows that Aaron will not appreciate being treated like an invalid but Rossi isn't prepared to take the risk of him falling and further hurting himself.

Hotch realises that he is still a little woozy from the blood-loss and a healthy dose of pain-killers as he stumbles into the cab; he appreciates the fact that Rossi is trying his hardest not to be too over-solicitous.

* * *

The ride to the hotel is quiet and the exhaustion, blood-loss and pain-killers mean that Hotch is barely aware of anything. Rossi is easily able to lead him to the twin room he and Aaron are sharing, place him on the bed and remove his shoes, (the jacket and tie having being removed at the hospital), before pulling the blanket over him. Aaron looks a lot younger in his sleep; the missing suit, the bed-head hair, the face lacking its usual stern countenance and the body that is completely relaxed all seem to take years off.

A gentle knock at the door pulls Dave from his silent musings. JJ and Prentiss are standing outside, trying to crane their necks around the older man and peer in. "Is he ok?" they both whisper, wanting to see Hotch for themselves and make sure their boss is indeed ok.

Dave immediately understands what they need and that they may well face a restless night if they don't get to see Hotch for themselves; he opens the door wide and gestures towards their boss and friend who is sleeping soundly, completely untroubled.

JJ and Prentiss smile and nod their thanks to Dave before leaving for the comfort of their own beds.

Whilst getting ready for bed, Dave once again hears a knock at his hotel bedroom door; he smiles and shakes his head in amusement, knowing exactly who will be on the other side.

He opens the door wide and once again gestures to Hotch before raising an eyebrow at the two figures in the hallway. Morgan and Reid look rather sheepish, but they are reassured by seeing for themselves that their boss sleeping comfortably. They smile their thanks to Rossi and return to their own beds without another word.

"Thank God" mumbles Dave quietly. He looks over at Aaron and smiles, "you may be the boss Aaron, but your team is _full_ of pushy mother-hens."

* * *

There is a faint ray of light shining across his pillow right into his eyes. He scrunches his eyes shut tighter and rolls over onto his side to avoid the sun-beam.

Mistake!

"Fuck, shit!" The pain is burning up, down and around his right shoulder. The memories of the day before rush back to Hotch but a quick, assessing glance at the wound tells him that no stitches have been torn.

The litany of swearwords from the bed next to him awakens Agent Rossi with a start. He looks over at his friend and sees the pain etched firmly into Aaron's expression. Dave silently gets up, grabs a bottle of water from the mini-bar and pours the correct dosage of pain-killers and antibiotics into his palm. He hands them to Aaron, who takes them without protestation; _'pain must be pretty bad'_ thinks Rossi.

"Thanks" mumbles Hotch quietly. The pair sit in silence for almost half an hour, waiting for the pills to fully set in and for Aaron's breathing and self-control to return to normal. Finally Aaron looks over at his former mentor and sighs, "So do you want to start the Great Inquisition now, or after some coffee?"

Dave smiles, "Coffee and breakfast _always_ come first!" It is early, just past six in the morning, but he knows that room service is available for the early risers.

* * *

They are sitting at a small table in their hotel room, the smell of coffee permeating the air, their plates empty save for crumbs from their quickly devoured croissants.

Hotch is almost hugging his coffee mug, staring down at the table and avoiding eye contact.

Rossi notices his obvious reluctance but knows that he has to try and help his friend. He is blunt, direct and brave enough to call Aaron out on his bullshit; just what is needed right now. "So, you want to tell me what's been bothering you?"

Aaron sighs; _'here we go'_ he thinks. "Nothing, I'm just tired," he replies outloud, trying to delay the inevitable.

"Bullshit! You were the one who told me that _'we function as a team'_; how can we do that if you constantly put yourself on the _outside_ of the team?"

"I was talking about working a _case_, this isn't a case…it's personal." He tries to reason with Dave in a last ditch effort to avoid opening up.

"Whatever it is, it's affecting the team, Aaron, because it's affecting _you_. We give a damn, is that so bad?"

Aaron sighs; wasn't it only the other day that he wished his team saw more of him…what an idiot! He knows Rossi isn't going to go away, knows the team will never stop profiling him if he attempts to ignore it all.

He likes Rossi, respects him, and had missed him all those years when Dave was off writing and doing book tours. They have known each over ten years, friends for most of that time. He knows there is no-one he would rather talk to, he just hopes Dave won't think any less of him at the end of it all.

"It's just…" he begins, unsure of where to start. "I don't know…it all just feels too much right now!"

"What do you mean?" Rossi asks quietly, gently placing a supportive hand on Aaron's uninjured shoulder.

"I love this job, it's who I am. I love knowing that we catch some of the worst people out there and stop them from fulfilling their sick fantasies. We may see the worst side of humanity but we can _do_ something about it; we can _stop_ it! And I know we don't always succeed but we do it enough to know that we make a difference...a _real_ difference!

"Recently however…I don't know, maybe it's just been a bad streak, but these past few cases have been particularly horrific, and it's getting to me more than it should, more than it did. Maybe Gideon was right." Hotch ends his uncharacteristic rush of words quietly.

Dave already worries about where this conversation is going. "Maybe Gideon was right about what exactly?" he asks firmly, unsure of whether he really wants to know the answer.

Aaron looks Dave straight in the eye, and Rossi is shocked by the despondency he sees there. "Maybe he was right to leave, to try and…rediscover his faith in humanity that this job steals away, bit by bit." Hotch looks back down at the table.

"Aaron" Dave demands quietly, "have you been thinking about leaving the BAU?" The idea seems foreign to Rossi; Hotch _is_ the BAU.

Aaron doesn't answer, but his silence says it all.

* * *

_**There you go…what do you think?**_

_**More to come soon – we find out about all the stuff that has been bothering Hotch, and Rossi blows up over Gideon.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thanks for the reviews!**_

_**Rossi goes into full-on paternal mode in this chapter, trying to get Hotch to see sense.**_

* * *

"You want to leave? Hotch, you can't leave, the team needs you," Rossi tries to bargain desperately, spewing the words out in a knee-jerk reaction on hearing his friend is even _considering_ such an action.

"What about Haley and Jack? They need me too Dave!" Hotch replies, the emotion that always comes along with talking about his family breaking through.

"Haley _left_ you, Aaron; you don't owe her anything anymore!"

"She's my wife, Dave, the mother of my child, my oldest friend and the woman I love…I will always owe her _everything_!" Hotch is angry at his friend's response, but also furious at the very thought that Jack is the only thing keeping them in each other's lives now.

"Tell me something Aaron," Rossi's quiet tone surprises Aaron out of some of his anger, "and be honest; did you or did you not give your family everything you could? You supported them financially…food, clothing, a roof over their heads. You supported them emotionally. When you were with them, did you or did you not give them your unfailing attention?"

"I tried…I gave absolutely everything to Haley and to Jack _and_ my job, but it wasn't enough, Dave. I don't get to come home and kiss my wife and hug my son, and it hurts! Every time I go back to that dark and empty house, it physically hurts!" Aaron hangs his head dejectedly.

"Aaron, you _did_ try, you _did_ give it absolutely everything, and that's all anyone can do; it's all anyone can ask. You're right that this job is a part of who you are but it's not entirely who you are.

"Leaving the job aside for a moment, you're a smart, compassionate guy with a wicked dry sense of humour that admittedly you don't often show. You're strong-willed, perhaps sometimes a little too pig-headed. You're determined and sometimes more selfless than is healthy. Plus, being a profiler, I'm able to tell you that several of the female members of staff at that hospital definitely found you worth looking at," Rossi smiles mischievously and Hotch gives a small roll of his eyes.

"That's also who you are Aaron, and if Hailey put your dedication to this job in front of all of that and treated it as some major flaw in your character, if she doubted that you are as dedicated to her and Jack as you are to the job and to the team, then she doesn't know you as well as she should after all these years!"

Aaron is quiet, trying to take it all in. Logically he knows that Dave is right, that he _did_ give it his all but emotionally he cannot accept that there was nothing else he could have done to save his marriage. He feels completely drained by the effort it took to be one hundred percent Aaron Hotchner for his family and one hundred percent Agent Hotchner for his team, and all he has to show for it is a broken marriage and an empty home, as well as a Section Chief out for his letter of resignation.

He isn't an idiot, he figured out during his suspension that Haley was most likely having an affair due to the hang-up phone-calls and her frequent, unexplained disappearances, but he feels as though even that must have been his fault, that he must have neglected her somehow.

He can't help but wonder what he could have done differently.

"I miss them Dave; a couple of hours on a weekend isn't enough time to spend with my son. I wanted to be there for Jack in a way that my father was never there for me and Sean, and I feel like I've failed him already."

"Have you ever hit your son?" Dave bluntly demands.

Aaron looks up at him with a mixture of confusion, anger and shock in his expression; "No! I would never…_could_ never lay a finger on him, _or_ on Haley. How can you even think that?"

"I don't," Rossi assures him quietly but firmly, maintaining eye contact; "I'm just proving to you that you're already a far better father than your own."

Hotch frowns, a hint of suspicion in his countenance. "What makes you think…?"

Rossi interrupts him with a sad smile, "I'm a profiler, Aaron, and some things are obvious. You never talk about your father, and you show empathy with abused children, not the pity that those who have never experienced it themselves usually show. Regardless, it doesn't matter, Aaron. Most people have some form of parental issues; on your team alone there are issues enough to _drown_ in.

"Reid's father abandoned him and his schizophrenic mother is in an institute. Morgan lost his father at an early age and as a result was forced to grow up far too quickly. JJ's parents were loving but unforgiving in their expectations and the pressure they placed on her. Prentiss doesn't know her father and her mother is a high-flying career woman who was too busy to spend much time with her daughter. Garcia lost both her parents in a devastating accident."

Rossi pauses to make sure his friend is listening; Aaron looks at him and gestures for him to continue. "Who our parents are…it doesn't really matter at the end of the day. All that matters is what they help mould us into. Despite all these parental issues in your team, they are basically well-rounded individuals who've overcome their problems; yes they have their flaws but who doesn't? You used your experiences to make yourself stronger, a _better_ person than your father; that is a testament to the strength of your character if nothing else is."

Ever the profiler, Hotch catches the glaring omission in Rossi's statement; "You never said anything about your own parents."

"I was lucky; I grew up in a stable, loving home." Dave answers honestly. "Now, you gonna tell me the rest of it?" Aaron looks up questioningly. "Come on Hotch, while undoubtedly distressing, the separation isn't the only thing resting on your mind."

"I hate profilers!" Hotch mumbles; Rossi only smirks. "I don't know Dave…the job just seems to be getting to me more; that whole mess with Frank, the girl from the mall, Garcia getting shot…all of it!"

"We have had a string of tough cases. Most we come across are pretty bad and these last few cases we've had all involved children; it's gonna get to people, especially those with kids of their own." Rossi says, trying to appease his friend's anxiety. "Plus, you've been having to do almost two agents worth of work since Gideon left."

Aaron appears to be confused at this, "What do you mean?"

"I've been away from the BAU for ten years, Aaron; there are all sorts of changes in procedure and protocol, technological advances, even the fact that we work in teams rather than individually or in pairs, and don't even get me started on the damn paperwork. It's a lot to get used to, and I know I'm not yet as efficient as you need me to be."

"Dave, you help; what are you talking about? You're a great asset to the team;" Hotch tries to reassure his old friend of his immeasurable value.

"I help when I can, I'm learning but i'm not there yet. My point is that Gideon left. He didn't resign Aaron, he just up and left, no notice, nothing. And when he did that he threw you in at the deep end with no life-line, cos Strauss certainly wasn't going to help you; and all this meant that you've had to do the work he used to do too."

As he talks, Dave feels his anger at the former BAU member rise. "He left a letter for Reid but nothing for you…you've known and worked with the guy for almost ten years and he just walked away, no explanations or apologies. I feel furious every time I think of it; can you honestly say Gideon's actions have had no effect on you whatsoever?"

Hotch is struck by the vehemence in Rossi's tone, but slowly sits back in his seat and thinks about it. "I don't know if I'm _angry_, Dave. I can understand why Jason left, hell…at this moment in time I could do the same thing very easily."

"No you couldn't" Dave reponds with certainty. "Even if you feel like you're standing on the edge of that particular precipice you would never abandon your team; you're not wired like that."

"I would love to think that was the truth, but it's not; I nearly left, Dave, I was all set to transfer into another department when I was on suspension."

"But you _didn't_ so you can stop feeling guilty about it;" Rossi assures him, and smiles as Hotch narrows his gaze, "I know you, Aaron, and I know you would insist on carrying around this completely self-fabricated guilt. You didn't abandon the team, and you didn't abandon your family. Gideon did. You are not your father and you are not Gideon…which I thank God for everyday I work with you!" he adds with another smirk.

"I was…disappointed I guess, that Jason felt he should leave the way he did, that he felt he couldn't talk to us…to me, that I wouldn't understand." Aaron quietly confesses, encouraged by Dave's own candour on the subject; "The extra work doesn't bother me, especially now that Haley and Jack are gone; at least it gives me something to take my mind off things. I just wish that he trusted me like I trusted him."

Rossi can sense the hurt and confusion and just a hint of betrayal in his friend's words, but tries to push his own feelings about Gideon down so he can comfort Aaron. "You know, the team has been feeling similar things in relation to you."

Aaron looks up sharply with surprise at Dave's words. "What do you mean?"

"They couldn't understand why you wouldn't let anyone know what was wrong. They might not have come and talked to you about it, but trust me, they've all been very worried about you. They've been very anxious about not being able to help you." The look of remorse that floods across Aaron's face is not what he wants to see.

"I didn't mean to make anyone worry," Hotch laments; "I just…I'm their boss, I'm supposed to be a stable, solid and dependable leader that they can lean on and trust; this support is crucial in a department like the BAU and like you said, it's not like they can go to Strauss. Fuck!" Aaron quietly moans, the guilt in his expression so easy to read that it might just as well be stamped on his forehead.

"What's with the guilt, Aaron?" Rossi demands to know. "What the hell do you think you have to feel guilty about? They care about you, we all do; having people look out for you is no cause for shame. It's a _team_ Hotch, and if anyone should feel guilty maybe it's us."

Aaron frowns at this, lacking any comprehension for what Dave is saying. "Why would you have anything to feel guilty about?"

"You may be the Unit Chief, Aaron, but we're all members of the same team. We've all seen the effort you put in to your work, the extra hours you pull and we've all noticed your recent bout of depression, yet we did nothing, for so long; if you were to put a gun in your mouth we'd all have a share in the blame." Dave looks away from Aaron, upset at the very thought; "I'm sorry Aaron, I haven't been there when you've needed me," he confessed shamefully.

Hotch is struck dumb. He never expected to hear anything like this!

There is silence for several moments as Aaron tries to take everything in and Rossi silently berates himself for adopting such a laissez faire attitude towards his former protégé. Finally, Hotch, having processed the words, gently lays a hand on Rossi's shoulder and waits for him to pay attention; Dave lifts his head and hesitantly looks Aaron in the eyes.

"Dave, first of all, let me make this very, _very_ clear: I am not now, nor have I ever even _thought_ about swallowing a bullet. Things have built up lately and I admit I've let myself get a little despondent, but I'm not depressed and am certainly not suicidal! Secondly, you and the team have nothing, _nothing_ to feel guilty about.

"You've known me a long time Dave, surely by now you must have realised that I have the propensity to try and handle problems on my own. The team is the only thing that has kept me going these past few months. To have you back Dave…it has been more than helpful; just because I haven't cried all over your shoulders yet doesn't mean you haven't been there for me."

Dave lowers his head slightly, trying to hide his emotions from Aaron's watchful eyes and profiling mind; he offers a slightly sheepish grin. "I thought I was supposed to be comforting you!"

Hotch gives a small laugh and a playful shove to Rossi's shoulder.

They sit in an comfortable silence for several minutes before Hotch stands up and carefully stretches his body in an effort to work out some of the kinks that worked their way through his body as he was sitting through their talk. "Well, I stink…I need a shower!"

"Way to ruin the moment Aaron." He hears Hotch's quiet laughter move to the small bathroom attached. "Don't get your stitches wet!" he orders loudly.

"Yes, mother bear," Aaron replies wryly, and Dave can perfectly imagine the accompanying eye-roll.

He isn't fully healed but it's a start, and Dave is more than satisfied that, though his friend is going through some rough times, Aaron understands that he doesn't have to go the distance alone.

Dave gets off the bed and goes to wake the others. The return plane-ride should at least be a lot more comfortable than the outgoing flight.

* * *

_**There you go, let me know what you think.**_

_**Next up…the plane ride – the team notice the difference and each try to help Hotch in their own way.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thanks for the reviews! Final chapter…managed to get it done with a late night!**_

_**As the team heads home, each of them approach Hotch to make sure he's doing better, and Rossi's feeling a little smug. **_

* * *

The plane is quiet, everyone absorbing the effects of yet another horrific case and a close call on a team-member's life.

Morgan is slouched down in his seat, eyes closed, bobbing his head gently to the music as he tries to lose himself in the familiar beat of his favourite artists.

Reid is curled up on one end of the plane's sofa, reading through a several hundred page book that he knows won't last the flight; but it is an interesting read and it keeps him distracted.

JJ is still bleary-eyed after her early-morning wake-up call and is furiously clinging to a freshly made cup of coffee as she breathes in the bitter aroma.

Prentiss is gazing absentmindedly out of the window, trying to think of anything but the little girl they found in Keating's van; the monster may be dead, but that must surely be of small comfort to the girl's parents.

Rossi is sitting on the opposite side of the plane to Aaron, having decided to give him a little space (as much as you can on a small plane) and let some of their earlier conversation sink in.

Hotch, dressed in a shirt but foregoing his usual tie and jacket, is sitting still and staring out of the window, right arm in a sling and resting comfortably on his chest.

Dave had given him a lot to think about, although he still can't quite believe that the team seriously thought he was headed for a nervous breakdown…sorry…a major depressive episode. In one way he is horrified that he has caused such undue concern from the members of his team, but then it is also nice to know that his team care as much for him as he does for them; being the boss does not always win you many favours.

Are the failures he has spent so much time thinking on really not his fault?

His family…he knows Dave is right in that he gave it his all; he gave 100% to the job when he was at work and 100% to his family when he was at home.

Maybe his marriage has fallen apart; he certainly knows that he has lost the woman he loves, but that doesn't mean he has to lose his son too. He has never physically hurt Hayley and has tried to never hurt her emotionally either; he has done all he could without abandoning his job and his team, to keep his marriage going…he could have done no more.

If Hayley doesn't want to see him anymore…well then that's something he'll have to learn to live with, but he will not and _cannot_ live without his son in his life.

He catches Reid out of the corner of his eyes before the young man sits down opposite him with a sigh. "Is everything alright?"

"I've finished my book," Reid states simply.

Hotch smiles, "There's a surprise! Anything worth reading?"

It is Reid's turn to smile then; he leans forward and starts chatting away animatedly about the history of the Peloponnesian Wars. He can see that his boss, tired and slightly doped up on pain-killers, isn't following all of his rapid-fire statistics and interesting facts but he is clearly understanding enough to ask the odd question.

He is beyond glad to see Hotch smile, a rare sight but always a welcome one. Reid knows he owes a lot to his boss, who risked his job by hiding Reid's drug problem from their superiors, who patiently taught him the things books couldn't teach, and who stayed when Gideon had left.

He had been anxious that Hotch too might leave and is now happy to see signs that he will seemingly grace the BAU with his presence for years to come. He doesn't know what was said between Hotch and Rossi, but whatever it was has clearly helped; he makes a mental note _not_ to listen to the Foundation Trilogy when riding with Rossi for a while.

Reid gives another happy, reassured grin to his boss and excuses himself for a little nap on the sofa.

Hotch smiles to himself while Reid returns to his seat on the sofa. Spencer is almost always the smartest kid in the room, and despite his many mature character traits, he is still just a kid in so many ways. Despite the horrors they face and the things Reid himself has experienced there is still an endearing innocence about the young doctor that Aaron would hate to see destroyed.

He enjoys teaching Spencer, and while he knows he will never replace Jason as Reid's mentor he hopes that the young agent still feels as though Aaron has something to teach and is a more than willing teacher.

He is about to stare back out of the window when Emily Prentiss sits down looking more worn than Aaron has ever seen her. "Is everything alright?" he asks quietly, knowing that privacy is next to impossible on such a small plane but hoping that the illusion of it may well help one of his more reticent agents open up about what is clearly troubling her.

"This case…I mean…it's not one of the worst but still. I'm finding it hard to…to process it all. I can't get the image of that poor little girl out of my head." She is a little worried about what her boss might say to this, knowing that the BAU needs focused agents who are able to detach themselves from the situation.

She looks up to Hotch, aspires to be an agent just like him; he is cool, calm and collected…he is competent, smart, dedicated…one of the best at what they do. She feels like she is beginning to earn her place on his team (because it _is_ his team no matter what Strauss may think) and hopes that she is gaining his trust. With that in mind she continues; "Normally I have no problem compartmentalising these things but this one…I don't know."

To hear Emily stop and start is slightly shocking for Hotch; even when Emily is upset she is always very clear in her emotions and the way she vocalises them. "It's nothing to be ashamed of Emily; we've had several consecutive very distressing cases."

Rossi hears this from his corner of the plane and smiles to himself, amused by the symmetry of the conversation.

"Prentiss," Hotch continues. "You once told me that you needed to know that you could be human; here is the evidence of that. Just give yourself some time, and if you want a couple of days off work, leave the paperwork on my desk once we get back and I'll sort it all out for you."

"No, that's ok; I think work will help but thanks anyway Hotch;" she then smiles at him, eyes twinkling and whispers as though she is about to reveal some great conspiracy, "sometimes this whole being human thing sucks!"

She hears a quiet chuckle from her boss as she makes her way back to her seat. She has long since learnt that Hotch is a serious man, rarely smiling or joking, but she also knows that despite his own claims of having no sense of humour, he most certainly does, and a dry one at that. His smile had completely disappeared over the past couple of months and his intensity had dramatically increased. To see his eyes sparkle with mirth is a more than welcome sight, especially since it means Morgan owes her twenty bucks!

Hotch watches Prentiss sit down and stare out of the window with a smile on her face, seemingly in a lighter mood than before. He knows that she will need some time to get over this case, but she is a strong woman and a highly capable agent, and he has every confidence in her.

She is slowly becoming comfortable inside the BAU, particularly now that the mess with Strauss is over and dealt with. He enjoys working with her; she is able to cope with his sarcasm and his moods, and she stands up to him when she thinks the situation warrants it, during the foster-child case in Denver for instance. She will grow into one hell of an agent and he is glad he has the chance to teach her and to ensure her ambitions are well within her reach without being corrupted by the ambitions of others, like Strauss.

His thoughts are once again interrupted when another body lands itself in the seat opposite.

"Everything alright JJ?"

JJ is quiet, paler than usual and has dark bags under her eyes. She had seen Hotch smiling during his previous conversations; she could do with a bit of a smile herself. "Mmm" she mumbles, "Just a little tired I guess."

"I've got a lot of extra pills lying around; a couple of my pain-killers will give you a good sleep I guarantee it." Aaron offers with a smile which JJ gratefully returns; Hotch always knows what she needs and she greatly appreciates it.

"Just tell me we get to go home once we sign in back at Quantico and I'll manage" she asks hopefully. She is used to her boss pushing everyone out of the door while he remains behind, finishing up the hours of bureaucracy that seem to drown every department in the FBI. She sometimes feels guilty that she never returns the favour, but more often than not she is staying late too; JJ is just as much of a workaholic as her boss is.

She likes those nights; while they spend most of their time in their own offices seeing to their own work, they often meet up at the coffee machine and spend several minutes talking casually over a Danish pastry and a strong coffee; it is often at times like that when Hotch's humour shines through and it always helps lift JJ's spirits enough to get her through her paperwork. She likes the idea that she gets to see a rarely seen side to the complicated senior agent in the privacy of those small hours.

Aaron smiles at her candid response, "I'll make sure Strauss knows you're all off limits for the rest of the day; we all worked overtime on this case and even if it was a relatively short one, it was a messy one!" He sees JJ's gentle nod.

He has a great deal of respect for his media liaison; she handles her job with great dignity and sensitivity. JJ is _stuck _on the front lines; while she faces the UnSubs with the rest of the team, she also has to face the ravaging pack of wolves that is the media; she faces the exhausted cops at their wits end searching desperately for answers and she spends more time with the distraught family and friends than most of the team.

She does all this and rarely does anyone know when things are getting to her. In many ways he sees JJ as the younger sister he never had; she has his propensity to overwork, dedication beating exhaustion almost every time. She is often silent about her own internal struggles over the horrors of their work, and when she does vocalise them it is always with a quiet dignity…never exaggerating or asking for attention. Her quiet presence has got him through many a long night of paperwork in the dark of the BAU offices.

"If she tries anything I can always tell her we have no viable cases to work, _me_ she might believe," she winks cheekily at her boss, alluding to the well-known fact that Strauss is not Hotch's biggest fan. She returns to her seat, her heart a little lighter.

Hotch smiles as he watches her go; JJ isn't as fragile as she looks…she'll be ok.

He spends almost ten minutes waiting for Morgan to come over. He isn't stupid, he knows what they're doing; this is their own not-quite-so-discreet way of reaffirming in their own minds that their boss is indeed ok. Unlike the outward plane journey, Hotch finds he isn't at all annoyed by this extra attention; it is quite flattering to know they are so concerned about him and if he can comfort them in return…well, that is an excellent bonus!

Morgan sits opposite his boss and passes an assessing gaze over his mentor.

He has to admit that while he doesn't much like Rossi the guy has definitely helped their boss somehow; dammit…he should never have made a bet against him…now he owes Emily twenty bucks!

Despite the sling on his arm, Morgan thinks his boss looks healthier than he has done in a long time; there is a quiet humour in his eyes that had been missing as of late and his entire posture is relaxed…maybe he should cut Rossi some slack...or maybe he should add Hotch's pills to the BAU water cooler.

"You can stop profiling me Morgan…I'm fine!" Hotch states quietly, trying to avoid prying ears. "But I _do_ want to apologise for making you all worry; it's been a rough couple of months with the separation and everything, I'll admit, but I'm ok…really."

Morgan smiles, silently agreeing with Garcia's common _'I hate profilers!'_ phrase.

He looks Hotch straight in the eyes, "Good, cos we need you and we don't want another Unit Chief!" and Derek could not mean that more. Hotch might not be the kind of guy he wants to go bar-hopping with, but for a boss there is no-one he'd rather have at his back.

Hotch laughs quietly at Morgan's candour; you can always rely on him to give it you straight, a bit like Rossi in that respect; he knows that the feelings of animosity Derek has towards Dave will fade with time, and hopes that once he knows Rossi well enough he will learn to trust him, as Derek desperately needs to trust others to watch his six.

Hotch knows that Morgan respects him, and he likes that the younger agent often looks to him as his mentor; he only hopes that he will never let him down.

"We should be landing soon so I'm gonna head back to my seat" he pauses, "Hotch…you _really_ ok man?"

Aaron gives a perfunctory nod of his head, "I'm really ok."

Morgan returns his nod and heads back to his seat, discreetly dropping a twenty into Emily's open and waiting hand with a quiet glare at her victorious smile over her successful wager.

Aaron leans back in his seat and is rubbing at his eyes when he feels someone else sit opposite him; he opens his eyes blearily and raises an eyebrow at Rossi who has Aaron's next dosage in his open palm. For a second, Hotch thinks about refusing them just to see what his friend will do, but he figures that after all Dave has done for him he could at least co-operate. He dry swallows them and pretends not to notice Dave's look of surprise at his compliance.

"When we get back" Dave begins, "you'll leave the bi-annual reviews to another day. We'll go to yours and pack a bag…you'll be staying with me for a couple of days. Mudgie could use the company and you will need help squeezing toothpaste onto your toothbrush for a couple of weeks."

Aaron glowers at Dave over the reminder that he was going to be semi-dependent on someone else until he could move his arm with more freedom than his current injury allowed for. He receives no response except for a quick, smug grin. He knows without question that he'll kill his friend before allowing him to do anything so demeaning like squeezing his toothpaste or cutting up his food; he is not an invalid, he is merely temporarily incapacitated.

He leans back in his seat and eyes Rossi carefully; "I don't need you to babysit me Dave!" He hears a snicker that he is sure is coming from Morgan; _'just you wait'_ he thinks t himself, _'I'll get my revenge.'_

Dave pins Hotch with a look, "I think you misunderstood…you _will_ pack a bag and you _will_ stay with me for a couple of days! You think I want to be left with this bunch of miscreants for any longer than necessary because you don't understand the meaning of _'taking it easy,'_" Rossi jokingly points his thumb over his shoulder at the rest of the team.

While JJ and Prentiss looks suitably insulted, Morgan looks positively incensed at the idea of being stuck with Rossi in charge and Aaron has to try his hardest not to release a snicker of his own.

He settles for glowering at Rossi, knowing the older man will not take _'no'_ for an answer. He gives a brief nod in acknowledgement of Rossi's plans and slowly looks up to meet his friend's eyes. "I don't think I've thanked you yet…so thanks!" he confesses quietly. "Even though you're a pushy old man with a shit-eating grin I seriously want to wipe off your face from time to time, I know you're trying to help and I appreciate it," he smiles back.

"_I'm_ the _'old man'_ am I? Funny…and here I thought _you_ were the one everyone was going to for some good old grandfatherly advice."

This time the sniggering of the team is not quite so well contained, even Reid awakens from his nap in time to eavesdrop on this particular part of the conversation.

Rossi is smirking yet again.

Aaron simply rolls his eyes and utters, "Don't say another word Dave!"

Rossi throws both his hands in the air, palms open in a surrendering motion that Hotch isn't buying, the grin never leaving his face.

Aaron feels a familiar mantra coming back to him…_'I will get off this plane, I will get off this plane, I will get off this plane…I will not kill Rossi and hide the body, I will not kill Rossi and hide the body, I will not kill Rossi and hide the body…I will get off this plane…I hope…!'_

* * *

The journey back to the BAU is quick and quiet, the smiles have yet to leave the teams' faces and Hotch is still sending frequent glares in the direction of a still smug Rossi.

The six of them step off the lift and head into the heart of the BAU, eager to finish up as quickly as they can and head to the comfort that only their own beds can offer.

There is a small squeal and a blurry image of flying pinks, yellows and electric blues as Garcia runs to greet the team.

"Hello my chocolate Adonis," she says happily before thumping Morgan on the arm.

"Ow…what was that for?" Morgan questions with the look of a kicked puppy, unused to getting anything other than love from his Baby Girl.

"I have heard _nothing_ from you since I gave you that sicko's address!" Penelope huffs. "Mobile phones work both ways, Derek!"

She turns to take in the rest of her team. Rossi is smirking at Derek's slightly cowered posture as the younger man gently rubs his arm. JJ is looking tired and slightly dishevelled while Emily gives her a brief smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"This one was a tough one, huh?" she asks knowingly before turning her eyes towards her Boss-man…who was wearing a sling?

Garcia places her hands on her hips, narrows her eyes and speaks in a soft but dangerous tone as her gaze sweeps over the rest of the team: "why did _no-one_ tell me one of my shining knights got hurt?" her quiet anger making her question all the more fierce.

Hotch, who frequently found his technical analyst to be the scariest mother-hen of them all, looks at the rest of his team feeling beyond horrified of the possible consequences of their gross oversight: "You didn't tell Garcia?"

* * *

_**END**_

_**There you go…finished!**_

_**A big thanks to all my reviewers, especially my regulars, Brummie10, Ecda, nexis44, RuByMoOn17, Thn0715 and jeanniean - your kind words of support have really helped me to write this story. Hope the ending doesn't let you down.**_


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